


Take A Seat

by DeansMichaelSword



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dean in Glasses, Lap Sex, M/M, Riding, Star Trek References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansMichaelSword/pseuds/DeansMichaelSword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Punk!Cas and Nerd!Dean high school AU<br/>Dean's trying to find a seat on the school bus and he falls into Cas's lap. They proceed to fanboy, makeout, and have sex.<br/>both are of age</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Every single seat was full. Every last one.

In fact, most seats have kids sitting with other kids in their laps, but those were girls. Some have guys squishing three to a seat and spilling over into the aisle.

Dean pushes his glasses up his nose and snatches a glance at the bus driver, Bobby. The guy loves him and when the bus had been full before, he’d let Dean slide without forcing him into a regulation seat. He knew Dean didn’t have any friends on his bus and there was an empty space for a wheelchair at the very back where Dean could sit quietly until they reached his stop – the _last one_. But today Bobby looked royally pissed. Likely given that there was an entire slew of obnoxious, noisy kids he’d never seen – and therefore didn’t like – overtaking his bus. The parking lot at school was getting redone and so half of the kids were out of spaces for the week, and therefore forced to take buses.

When Bobby catches Dean looking at him his eyes narrow and he growls, “Take a seat.”

Dean starts making his way to the back, hoping beyond hope that the wheelchair space is vacant. He gets dirty looks from the more socially adept kids who seemed put out at having to shift slightly to the left or right so that Dean could move past their legs. No way would he ask about sitting with any of them.

He’s about two seats away from the wheelchair space when he sees a leg jutting out. _Shit_ , someone’s in his spot. He thinks hopefully that it’s just one person who won’t mind if he presses into the other corner of the space. But it’s the stoners. All of them. They harass him on his way to lunch every single day and hit on him during study hall just to make him blush. Why are they all on one bus? Is there a stoner party in the sticks on a Tuesday night? Do they all live on the same commune together?

Dean sighs in frustration and shoves his glasses up his nose too forcefully. _Ow_. That’s gonna leave a mark.

“Need a seat?”

He’s startled by the gravelly voice to his right in the last seat before the wheelchair spot. Oh no. Oh God. The seat is filled with punks. And only one of them is looking at him. Shit, it’s one of the hot ones he’s noticed before – _Castiel_.

“Uhm-“ he says intelligently.

“Because, this one’s open,” he indicates his lap. _His lap_.

Balthazar sleeping on Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley hanging out of the window smoking - _was that a joint?_

But he doesn’t get much of a choice.

“Siddown!” Bobby yells to everyone and he nearly floors it. Dean is thrown completely off balance and falls headlong across the punks. He would have landed on Balthazar and Crowley had Castiel not caught him and deftly brought him into a sitting position on his own lap.

“This is sufficiently awkward,” Castiel says and Dean blushes and coughs, but that just makes Castiel smirk. It was obvious that he’d suggested this idea as a joke to tease Dean. Mostly it was so Cas could see that adorable blush that would sometimes grace the other boy’s cheeks.

Dean  wants to scramble away and sit in the aisle but Bobby will yell if he stands up. Aside from that, it would be awkward to try and get out of Castiel’s lap when the punk has an arm slung across Dean’s thighs. The bespectacled boy clears his throat again and gives the owner of the lap he’s sitting in a once-over.

“Nice shirt.”

“What?” He’d been lost in the way Cas’s eyebrow rings caught the light.

“I said nice shirt.”

Dean glances down at his Star Trek shirt featuring the _Enterprise_ , “You ever watch it?”

“Of course.”

“Of course?”

“A show like that’s important. Set standards for future space exploration and for technology. Had the first interracial kiss…”

“Actually i-it wasn’t the _first_ interracial kiss. Just the most famous.”

“But do you ship them?”

It was odd to hear the term “ship” coming out of those pierced lips. Kinda trippy. He was so used to only hearing his best friend Charlie saying it that it almost didn’t compute to hear it without the accompaniment of red hair and a higher, feminine voice.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

“Like, I ship them. But…”

“But what?”

“I, um, also ship Spirk. I ship both.”

A grin breaks out over Cas’s face, “Spirk? Nice. Wouldn’t’ve pegged you for a Spirk fan. I’m partial to Spones but it’s just the love/hate dynamic. I totally see Spirk.”

Dean gives a nervous smile and bites the inside of his cheek before bucking up and asking, “So Voyager or Next Generation?”

They become so wrapped up in the conversation that neither of them notices when seats begin to free up until Bobby pulls to an especially hard stop. Dean clings tighter to Castiel – who at some point has become “Cas” – to balance himself. In an attempt to cover up the awkwardness of his action he mumbles, “I didn’t know you lived so far out here.”

“I don’t. Balthazar and Crowley are dragging me to their friend’s house for some pot and alcohol. They said today I needed to ‘loosen up.’”

Huh. So there is a stoner party in the sticks on a Tuesday night.

They go back to talking but Dean switches to Star Wars, which progresses to Indiana Jones, then Hunt For Red October (what can he say? he’s got a thing for Harrison Ford),  then a discussion on Cold War Politics – they had APUSH together last year and Gov this year even if they never said a word to each other. Cas stays toe-to-toe with him all the way. But Dean chooses to shift in his seat and _shit_ , this bus is humming and rumbling to beat the band and at this new perch, he can feel every word Cas says juddering through his body.  
So now he has to carry a conversation while sporting a difficult to disguise semi and sitting on the lap of the hottest guy Dean’s had a conversation with in his entire high school career.

Auggh. Fuck this decrepit, old bus and its constant vibrating. Fuck his stupid 18 year old dick for going off every three seconds. Fuck those stupid blue eyes for staring at him and not looking away. And _especially_ fuck to the warm hands resting on his hip and across his thigh.

Dean underestimated how much the new riders annoyed Bobby because apparently it’s enough to significantly decrease the quality of his driving. He hits a bump hard and then makes a sharp right, throwing Dean flush against Cas and bringing his nose to Cas’s temple.  
_Not helping_ , he reprimands his brain when his nose picks up the scent of Cas’s shampoo and it’s catalogued as _fresh_ and _warm_ and _inviting_. He only realizes how very true those assessments are when a hand begins to skim featherlight up his side - because that’s when he can consciously feel an arm pulling and keeping him chest-to-chest with Cas. The hand skimming up his side leaves goosebumps in its wake and it traces up Dean’s chest and neck to his chin. Dean’s breath hitches when he feels the hand tilt his chin down as Cas turns and lifts his own face. And then miraculously he feels warm, chapped flesh and cool, smooth metal brushing against his lips.

Dean gives a quiet moan that gets lost against Cas’s mouth but is nonetheless embarrassing. Cas leans back and Dean blinks rapidly, stammering, “What? How- how-?”

Cas cuts him off with a kiss then murmurs against his lips, “You let your binder slip off your lap after only a couple of minutes. But it’s understandable with a tent that obscene pushing against it.”

How many people has Cas made out with to get this good? He kisses like a fucking porn star and it’s all Dean can do to breath or come close to keeping up. Dean’s glasses are about to fall off his face when Cas pulls back for a moment, “I don’t really have to go to the party,” he sucks Dean’s lower lip into his mouth, “I’m sure,” he gently kisses and licks Dean’s mouth again, but when Dean opens, Cas pulls away, “that I could find something more engaging to spend my time on.” He looks pointedly to Dean’s crotch. Dean flushes and thinks to himself that by now he’d probably nicely match TOS engineering officers’ uniforms.

Somehow he decides he can form complete sentences, “My brother’s at study group and soccer practice and m-my dad isn’t home.”

Cas grins lewdly and tugs Dean in but he only complies for a moment before breathlessly saying, “This is- my stop is next,” just before the bus begins to lurch to a stop. Cas’s eyes light up and he grunts a goodbye to Crowley before twining his fingers with Dean’s and following him off the bus.

Dean is practically ruined for all furniture that isn’t Cas’s lap, though.


	2. Chapter 2

“I like you in my lap.”

Dean jerks his head up, catching his reflection in the mirror in the hall and yep; red as a Redshirt.

He _was_ taking off his shoes and putting his backpack down but Cas had come up behind him and put his hands on Dean’s hips. His hips are inches from Dean’s ass and when Dean stands up Cas begins to press kisses to the back of his neck.

“You should do it more often,” Cas meets his eyes in the mirror.

Dean swallows hard. They’ve just started this a half hour ago and already Cas is talking about _more often_. As in the future. As in this is not a one-time thing. As in realizing actual daydreams that Dean has accidentally let himself have.

“I-I – we could go watch TV or something and I could do it, um, some more if you want,” he tries not to make it sound like a question. Cas’s eyes are still locked on his in the mirror and he nods silently at Dean’s suggestion.

Dean grabs one of Cas’s hands off his hip and leads him upstairs to his room. “I’ve got Netflix on my laptop. We could,” he laughs nervously, “we could watch some Star Trek.” That gets Dean a bright smile from Cas when he glances over his shoulder to gauge the reaction.

Cas settles easily on the couch in the room that Dean and Sammy share. Dean pulls over a nightstand that he puts the laptop on as he brings up “Plato’s Stepchildren.” He hits play and stands up but before he can turn around, Cas has a hold of his hips again and is pulling him down on his lap in a mock of how they’d been sitting on the bus. But this is much more comfortable, not to mention relaxed. Especially when he isn’t being bombarded by vibration and other stimuli giving him a boner.

That only lasts for about fifteen minutes though.

Dean fidgets to keep his butt from going numb and he gets a whiff of what he’d smelled before on Cas – soap and sweat and chapstick with wafts of cigarette smoke, and it makes Dean feel cozy. The scent is gone in a moment but Cas nuzzling his hair isn’t. Dean nuzzles back and Cas makes a humming sound and shifts in his seat when Dean begins pressing wet kisses to his neck.

An unexpected noise from the screen seems to recapture Cas’s attention, but Dean isn’t done with him. Especially not once he spots the bulge in Cas’s pants. How had Dean not noticed _that_. He’s been sitting here for at least twenty minutes now. His leg is inches from it and all Dean would have to do is shift back just a little more … Or he could just press his hand against it. Maybe he’d be able to . He wonders if Cas would blow him after. Would he get to blow Cas later? They could … They could …

 _Oh, fuck_.

Dean wants that cock and he isn’t going to spend one more second without it up his ass that he doesn’t have to. Not when it’s so close and available and would be a fulfillment of so many of his fantasies. Too many if he’s being honest.

“Cas,” he turns and damn, they’re close. He has to cross his eyes a little to make full eye contact with Cas. “I want you to fuck me.” How’d he say that without stuttering?

Cas takes in a sharp breath through his nose. Dean only goads him by rocking back and brushing his ass against the line of Cas’s hard cock.

“ _Dean_ ,” it’s a reprimand and a praise and Dean loves it.

“I’ve got lube in the drawer of the nightstand,” he whispers, leaning his head up closer to Cas’s ear.

Cas locks his lips onto Dean’s and leans forward, fumbling at the nightstand and closing the laptop in the process. He gets the drawer open but Dean’s licking at his lips and it’s really distracting. They both draw back gasping, and Cas takes the opportunity to buck his hips up to pull a condom from his back pocket. He mentally thanked Balthazar for handing him a handful of packets when he decided Cas would be going to the party.

Dean shuffles and twists himself until he’s straddling Cas’s lap and they’re making out chest to chest. Dean leans back and pulls his shirt off in one go then sets about stripping Cas completely. He only gets the pants down to Cas’s ankles with one good shove before Cas starts undressing him.

Somehow, Dean finds himself totally naked and leaning heavily against Cas’s chest, both arms thrown loosely around the other boy’s neck as he’s fingered open. He’s done this to himself before – it’s the only reason he even owns the lube. But Cas knows his way around the male anatomy and it’s pure heaven to have him working Dean open.

Cas is torturing him with how slowly he’s going, how damn careful he’s being. He tells Cas as much but the only response he gets is a soft laugh. Then it feels as if Cas starts going even more slowly.  
Finally, _finally_ , Cas deems Dean ready and Dean groans in relief. To the other boy’s surprise he gives Cas’s cock a few hard strokes but then draws back, hovering above Cas’s legs so Cas can roll on the condom.

Dean draws his lip into his mouth and barely tightens his arms about Cas’s neck, before he’s bracing his thighs and lowering himself onto Cas’s cock. Their jaws drop open simultaneously. Cas groans when Dean bottoms out, “So good, Dean.” Dean gives a little hum that turns into a whine at the praise. He draws himself up so he’s hovering above Cas’s thighs again and he slams himself down. He knows this is going to hurt like hell tomorrow but it feels so damn good right now and he just wants to take it all. Cas moans his name and presses a sweaty forehead against Dean’s chest. Then Dean’s leaning in to kiss him and they’re making out the next time Dean draws himself up, and the next time, and the next.

Dean sets an almost alarming pace, practically bouncing with every drop. Cas is huffing and gasping with every move Dean makes and Dean knows his thighs are going to start burning as soon as he lets up but the totally debauched look on Cas’s face is priceless.

Cas will give a short thrust upwards to meet Dean’s downward ones but this show is all Dean’s and he is riding Cas for all he’s worth.  
Dean reaches for the glasses jostling haphazardly on his nose with every bounce, but Cas grabs his wrist. “Leave them,” he says, “I want you to be able to see my face when you make me come.”  Dean shudders at that and groans, leaning his head down and arching his body to be able to tuck his forehead in the crook of Cas’s neck. Cas laughs softly, “You can’t exactly see my face like that,” but he makes no move to change Dean’s position. Cas’s fingers move from his wrist to intertwine their fingers and _holy shit,_ they’re _holding hands_ while _fucking_. This has to be the best wet dream he’s ever had because there’s no way in hell this is actually happening to him in real life.

And then he knows he’s wrong because Cas shifts and he’s nailing his prostate on every other soft thrust. Dean’s still doing most of the work and he speeds up as his vision starts to blur. Cas tightens his grip on Dean’s hip and Dean hopes to god it’ll bruise. If it were possible, Dean finds himself going faster, desperate for release and he tightens his hold on Cas’s shoulder.

“Dean,” Cas whines.  

Dean groans incoherently in response. Cas reaches his hand between them and starts striping Dean’s cock.

“Dean,” Cas chokes out, with intent this time. “I want you – _fuck_ – want you to – fucking hell _, Dean_ – look at me. Look at me babe.”

Dean tears his eyes open and the seconds long contact between their gazes is enough to have him throwing back his head and coming over Cas’s fist. Cas works him through the orgasm. Dean manages to give one more hard thrust down and then he feels Cas pulsing inside of him and filling the condom.

Neither of them can breathe and they sit there, Dean looking down into Cas’s eyes as he sits up and Cas slips out of him. Both hiss at the sensation but the eye contact is maintained. Dean wonders if this would be awkward with someone else. His thighs only hold him for moments before they’re wavering and he falls back to sitting on Cas’s thighs. Cas takes care of the condom before he toes his pants off. Then he’s pulling Dean flush against him and leaning them both to lie down on the couch, face to face.

“We should do this more often,” Cas murmurs.

“What? Fuck each other’s brains out or cuddle and watch Star Trek?”

“Both.”

Dean smiles, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”


End file.
